


Aftermath

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Series: Two for One: A Stucky x Reader Polyamorous Series [12]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Multi, Polyamory, Upset Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 08:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15239607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: After some aggressively steamy sex, Bucky notices a distinctive bruise marking your skin.





	Aftermath

 

Your head fell back against Steve’s shoulder, a deep moan leaving you. His hands tightened on your waist, his breath hot against your ear, his cock pulsing and twitching inside of you. Bucky was pressed up against you, his body flush against yours, chest to chest, the fingers of his metal hand digging into your hip just above Steve’s as he slammed into you, burying himself inside of you. Every fiber of your being was on fire, electric sparks seeming to pop across your skin, your body screaming for release. Bucky’s hand was on your throat, not too tight, the pressure perfect, his lips on your mouth.

“Come on, Y/N,” he growled, both he and Steve thrusting harder and deeper, crushing you between them, working you over until you were coming, their names the curses falling from your lips.

“Fuck,” you groaned as both men chased their own release, the sensations overwhelming you until you were nothing but a wasted, albeit happy, mess lying between them, gasping for air.

Bucky caught your lips in his, kissing you tenderly, while Steve kissed your neck, soft and easy. After a few minutes, Steve crawled out of the bed and made his way to the bathroom, returning a few minutes later, boxer briefs on, and a washcloth in his hand, which he tossed to Bucky. He dropped a pair of sweats on the end of the bed then he crossed the room and kneeled in front of the mini fridge in the corner. Bucky helped you clean up before he sat up and grabbed the sweatpants from the end of the bed.

“Hey, doll, you want some water?” Steve yelled over his shoulder.

“Yes, please,” you replied, stretching and moaning at the burn in your pleasantly aching muscles, then you rolled to over to snatch your shirt and shorts off the floor. “Ouch, shit,” you muttered under your breath, your hand going to your right hip where the pain had originated. 

Bucky’s head whipped around, his beautiful blue eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, your mouth open to tell him that there was nothing wrong, but he was on you, pushing you back onto the bed, his eyes roaming over your body, examining every inch of you. It only took him a second to find the rapidly darkening bruise above your right hip, a hand shaped bruised, in the exact spot where his metal hand had been.

“Steve!” There was a note of panic in his voice. “Steve, get your ass over here!”

Steve appeared at the side of the bed, his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, leaning over him, his eyes going straight to the bruise Bucky was conveniently pointing out. “Shit, Y/N, why didn’t you tell us we were hurting you?” he scowled.

“Because I didn’t realize you were,” you replied, shrugging. “It’s nothing, no worse than I’d get sparring with Natasha. Really. I’m okay -”

“You’re not okay,” Bucky growled, gently tracing the bruise with one finger. “Jesus, Y/N, I can’t believe I did this to you.” He shoved Steve out of his way and stalked to the other side of the bedroom, as far from you as he could get, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Bucky,” you and Steve said in unison.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, you have to...you can’t let me…let us...hurt you.” He dragged in a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

You jumped off of the bed and scrambled for the clothes you’d discarded when this evening started, hurriedly pulling them on. “Bucky, please don’t let this bother you,” you begged, yanking your shirt over your head and pulling on your shorts. “Please, baby, please. I’m okay.” You slid to a stop in front of him, reaching for him, but he stepped away from you, his back against the wall.

You swung around, silently imploring Steve to help you. If anybody could talk some sense into Bucky, it was Steve. He was at your side in a second, his hand on the back of your neck, squeezing it gently. “Buck, c’mere,” Steve said, easing past you, his hand closing around Bucky’s upper arm, dragging him into the sitting room attached to the bedroom. You followed them, stopping short of going into the room with them. You leaned against the door jamb, watching and listening.

Steve pushed Bucky down on the couch and sat beside him, his hand on his knee. “Buck, she’s okay,” he murmured.

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. He whispered something to Steve that you couldn’t hear, his metal hand flexing, the click and whir of the metal echoing in the room. Steve edged closer, his shoulder against Bucky’s, and grabbed his hand, holding it tight, his other hand on Bucky’s back, gently rubbing circles on it, trying to soothe him.

“Bucky, look at me,” Steve ordered quietly.

The super soldier did as he was instructed, reluctantly turning his head to look at Steve. “What?”

“It’s not the same thing,” Steve said, resting his forehead against Bucky’s. “You were completely in control, right? You weren’t trying to hurt her, it was an accident. And it’s just a bruise, Buck. It’ll heal in no time at all.”

“I hurt her, Steve,” Bucky hissed. “ _ We _  hurt her. Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this again. This time is different. We’re too strong. And maybe I’m too fucked up to be able to control myself.”

Steve cupped Bucky’s cheek in his hand. “That’s not true and you know it,” he murmured. “Besides, is that what you really want?” Steve asked. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, nodding for you to join them.

You pushed away from the door and stalked across the room, dropping to your knees in front of Bucky, taking his hands in yours, wedging yourself between his legs. “You are not pushing me away, do you understand me?” you said. “It’s not happening.” You shot a glare Steve’s direction. “Neither are you.”

Steve put his hands up and smiled, while Bucky opened his mouth to protest, a protest you cut off by pressing your lips to his, silencing him.

“Don’t you think I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this?” you murmured. “I know how strong you are, how strong both of you are, but I do not care. I will wear every bruise like a badge of honor. So you can cut the shit, James Buchanan Barnes, because I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky’s arms eased around your waist, slowly, carefully. He ducked his head and kissed you, your own hands coming up to tangle in his chestnut locks, holding him to you. He released you with a sigh.

“I am sorry,” he whispered.

“I know,” you smiled, brushing his hair away from his face. “I always know. You never have to say it, Buck. What we do, who we are, the three of us, there’s never anything to apologize for. We’re good, no matter what. I promise.”

Bucky picked you up and set you on the couch between him and Steve. He placed his hand over the bruise on your hip, his forehead on your shoulder. You waited, squeezing Steve’s hand, letting Bucky’s emotions run their course, whatever that might be. After a couple of minutes that seemed like an eternity, Bucky hugged you to his chest, his lips pressed to your temple, his hair falling across your cheek. You closed your eyes and listened to the steady thump of his heart. Before you knew it, you were asleep.

 


End file.
